


Worth the Pain

by HesitateDisintegrate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angel Healing, Angel Wings, Angel/Demon Sex, Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Asmodeus Being an Asshole (Supernatural), Bathing/Washing, Bathtubs, Bottom Sam Winchester, Caring Dean Winchester, Caring Sam Winchester, Cleaning, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demons, First Kiss, Healing, Hell, Hell Trauma, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loss of Trust, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sam Winchester, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Requited Unrequited Love, Showers, Slow Burn, Stitches, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Gabriel (Supernatural), Top Gabriel/Bottom Sam Winchester, Torture, Trauma, Trust Issues, Whump, Wing Kink, Wingfic, demon rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HesitateDisintegrate/pseuds/HesitateDisintegrate
Summary: After Gabriel is rescued from Hell, his road to recovery is not simple. He can't trust his own judgement, his own eyes, and especially not another person, but Sam is patient. He knows what its like, because once upon a time, he'd been there too.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel & Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 46
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the missing story of Gabriel’s recovery from season 13. For anyone else who was left unsatisfied with that bit of the plot, join me for a bumpy ride.
> 
> Mind the tags people. Mentions of rape, torture, and Gabriel is also kind of wishing to die at this point.

The last few hours were a whirlwind, and Gabriel's memory of them was spotty at best. He could remember being dragged out of his cell. He remembered the hot flash of fear as he realized he was being taken for torture again, possibly another grace extraction. It was far too soon since the last one and he wouldn’t survive if it happened again now. He hoped he wouldn’t survive it. 

He remembers the instant panic that washed over him as he woke and realized he was draped over a shoulder. Whatever or whoever was carrying him was running and every footfall made his body jolt.

He remembers a blurry and disorienting shift in time and space and a sudden jarring landing. He remembers a brief confusion when city sounds hit him. The smell of smog. He remembers inhaling deeply and savouring the scent of car exhaust, a smell infinitely better than the sulphur and old blood and terrified soul scent of Hell. 

But how he ended up alone and unchained in a plain room, he had no clue. He shifted slightly and realized for the first time in almost a decade, he was in a bed. His second realization was that he wasn’t any more sore than he was earlier, which must mean that somehow, miraculously, he hadn’t been raped again.

Not that it really meant anything. He knew this was another one of Asmodeus’s elaborate fabrications, its not like he hadn’t drugged him and made him hallucinate rescues before. 

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to absorb the feeling of being alone and of breathing real air while it lasted. He tried to memorize how the pillow felt under his head and how the mattress felt pressing into his back. It was stupid. He knew Asmodeus would dig into his brain and even this could be ripped from him once it became a memory. 

Gabriel had almost managed to dissociate and float away into his head when there was the softest knock at the door. In an instant he flung himself off the bed and pressed himself into the farthest corner of the room on the ground, curled as tight and small as he could possibly be. 

This was it. Whatever demon had been sent to rape him, torture him, hopefully kill him, he was coming in now. Gabriel tried not to breathe. Maybe he could pass out for the whole thing and wake up alone again. He would have smiled at the ridiculous thought but after years of having his lips sewn shut, ripped open to be fucked, and sewn back again, he had trained himself not to move his mouth too much. 

The door inched open a crack and the demon’s head popped into the room. Gabriel held his gaze for a split second before turning his head away and pressing back farther into the unyielding wall. This demon was in a vessel. Fine, that was better. A demon in a vessel meant regular human body parts. Not that it was ever pleasant, but it was a giant step up from being raped by a demon in its natural form; all barbed and dripping venom, each one so completely different that he never knew what to expect. 

Gabriel saw the demon at the edge of his vision. It stepped into the room and closed the door softly. It seemed to be carrying something, and Gabriel desperately wanted to look but he was terrified. Some of them became livid if he was too curious, and from experience he knew that an angry demon was always worse. 

“Hey Gabe,” the demon said, still standing at the far end of the room. 

Why the actual fuck would the demon know his name? Why would he use it? He hadn’t heard that name in years.

“I brought some warm water and washcloths to get you cleaned up.” The demon set down whatever he was holding in Gabriel’s line of sight and he could see that it indeed was a bowl of clear liquid and assorted cloths. He wanted to laugh at the blatant lie that it was water. Whenever he had been offered a bath before it had always been with something acidic to sting his wounds, or something chemical to burn his skin. Water was basically a foreign concept. 

Gabriel pressed farther away from the demon and his lies.

“I also have a pair of scissors to cut out those stitches if you’ll let me,” The demon said.

Gabriel understood now. This demon wanted him clean enough to fuck him. He wanted his mouth free again so he could shove a cock in it.

The demon held up a small pair silver scissors. 

Gabriel thrashed and scrambled to get further away, He was stupid to have backed himself into the corner. There was nowhere to run. Not that the demon wouldn’t have chased him down and punished him for running anyways. 

“Woah woah. Gabe its okay, we don’t have to take them out. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Please stop, you’re going to hurt yourself,” The demon put the scissors down and pushed them away. They skidded across the floor and bumped into the opposite wall. Gabriel watched them gleam from across the room and a small sliver of his panic subsided before he realized if he didn’t let the demon fuck his mouth, he would fuck him a different way and at this point, that would hurt infinitely worse. 

His eyes widened and he met the Demon’s gaze, pleading and hoping that he came across as submissive enough to not get the rough treatment. He was pathetic and he knew it.

The demon sat down and crossed his long legs, placing his hands low and open on the ground. 

“Let me know when you’re ready Gabe. I’ll let you rest after but you’ve gotta get cleaned up a little or your cuts will get infected.” 

Gabriel froze. He must not have been hearing correctly. Since when did a demon ask if he was ready? Since when did they even talk to him so much if not to taunt him and describe what they would do to him, outline again how low and worthless he was.

The minutes stretched out and still the Demon didn’t move. Gabriel was exhausted. After ten minutes of nothing happening, he decided he should just get it over with. Maybe if he was good and didn’t protest the demon would fuck him quickly and let him rest as promised. 

Gabriel took a deep breath through his nose and pushed away from the wall. He nodded slightly when the demon met his eyes. He burned with embarrassment. What prisoner actually consents to this kind of thing? Half his brain was screaming at him to get back into the corner, the other half was just too tired to care at this point. 

The demon dipped a cloth in the bowl of liquid and wrung it out. His hands didn’t steam and sizzle from the solution, but that didn’t mean shit. Some demon’s were still immune to the effects of poisons and chemicals even in a vessel. 

Gabriel willed himself to be still; to not move an inch and to just be good so this would be over quickly. He squeezed his eyes shut as the demon brought the cloth to his face, and was genuinely surprised when the gentle drag of fabric didn’t burn his skin away. It didn’t seem possible, but maybe this really was just water. 

He opened his eyes again to look at the demon that was slowly wiping away the grime from his forehead. He looked angry, livid actually, but yet his hands were still unbearably gentle. He switched out the cloth and tipped Gabriel’s head to the side, cleaning his jaw and neck and carefully avoiding his mouth. 

He cleaned down his collarbones and switched the rag out again.

“Can I take off your shirt?” The demon asked. Gabriel let out an insane laugh, but it was so weak it came out as just a little huff through his nose. His shirt was so tatted and torn that it could barely be considered a shirt anymore.

The demon gripped the bottom of it and lifted it slowly. Gabriel moved his arms to let it slip off, but immediately curled them around his chest once the shirt dropped to the ground. 

The demon gaped at him. Gabriel looked away, knowing his chest was covered in fresh purple bruises and an assortment of green and yellow marks from old beatings. The history of his last two weeks was written in layers across his skin. 

After a heavy pause, the demon picked up the cloth again and wiped away as much of the grime as he could from his arms and chest. Gabriel forced himself not to move when the demon moved on to his back, but nothing unexpected happened. There were no blows raining down on him, no new slices into his skin, just the rhythmic swipe of the warm wet cloth. 

The demon sat back in front of Gabriel and tried to meet his gaze, but Gabriel couldn’t look at him. This had taken a blessedly long time, but now the demon would take off his pants and have his way with him. Gabriel felt sick but he clamped the feeling down. He had nothing to throw up, but even heaving up stomach acid with a sewn shut mouth was not fun. 

The demon’s hand reached towards the waistband of his dirty jeans, and Gabriel flinched back hard, making the demon freeze. 

Well crap. Here comes a good beating.

“Gabe you can wash your legs in the shower later whenever you’re feeling up to standing,” The demon said gently, bringing his hands back down. 

What the fuck?

Gabriel looked up at him slowly, not understanding his words in the slightest. The demon stood and opened a dresser that Gabriel hadn’t noticed was in the room. He set down a thick sweater.

“You can put this on for now. Please try to get some rest. I’ll be just down the hall if you need anything,”

Gabriel held his breath the entire time it took for the demon to gather up the dirty cloths, the bowl of water, the discarded scissors, and his torn shirt, and walk across the room, shutting the door behind him. 

He knew the demon would be back. He knew this was just a trick to get him to let down his guard before the real horror came, but once again he found he didn’t care. For the first time in a decade, he had water touch his skin. He was by no means clean, but he definitely felt less dirty. 

Gabriel quickly grabbed the sweatshirt, surprised at how soft it felt in his hands, and tugged it over his head, ignoring the way the fibres snagged at his scabs. He curled himself protectively back into the corner and leaned agains the wall, waiting for the demon to return and finish what he started. 

An hour passed, then two, then three, and still nobody came to him. Gabriel’s eyes drooped shut and he snapped himself awake several times before deciding that he didn’t care anymore if the demon came back and found him sleeping. He was so powerless he couldn’t stop the demon no matter what it wanted to do to him. His grace was nothing but a weak pulse, too weak to heal himself, definitely too weak to spread out and scan the house for danger. Gabriel let out a bitter huff thinking about how powerful he used to be. There was no end to his power, nothing he couldn’t do. Now he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. He hoped briefly that the demon would just come in and smother him in his sleep before he drifted off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, I love hearing from you guys!

Gabriel woke slowly, limb by stiff limb. He was still curled in the corner but for the first time in as long as he could remember, he wasn’t stone cold. He shifted, very slightly, and was surprised to find that he was wearing a real shirt. 

Ah yes. Courtesy of the strange demon with the sponge bath and the scissors and the whole handing out clothes for free thing. Gabriel dared a quick glance up and saw that he was once again alone in the room. If it even was a real room. He was still mostly convinced that he was in some drug induced haze and this whole thing was a hallucination. It wouldn’t have been the first of its kind. 

Out of habit, he let his hands drop to his ankles, but just like the last time he had been conscious, he still wasn’t tied up. It was strange being free of the heavy shackles, it made him feel somewhat untethered and vulnerable. At least when he was tied up he could not be taken someplace more horrible than his cell. Untied, he was technically free to roam, but it also meant anyone was free to just come take him. 

Gabriel exhaled deeply and focused for a few minutes on shutting down his brain. Not that he really cared about survival, but if he wanted to survive for any length of time then he knew he couldn’t think too hard. God knows he had done enough thinking those first few years, and that had just led him down a dark road very very quickly. He shut his eyes bitterly at the memory of those first shaky prayers, eventually followed by indignant prayers, then demanding ones, and finally nothing more than broken pleas. Nobody had answered any of them and he refused to go down that road again. He was on his own; that much was clear. 

The room, imaginary though it may be, was fairly cozy. Gabriel stood on shaking legs and was endlessly grateful that he had a ceiling high enough to allow standing. His knees groaned and then popped painfully, but he was too blissed out to care. It had been way too long since he had last stood up on his own without fighting to keep his feet under him as some person or other dragged him by his chains. 

Gabriel glanced down at the bed he had woken up in last time. It was still made, and still had a rumple where his body had been. The dresser in the corner had a small stack of books and a deodorant on it. There was a desk pushed against one wall with a simple rolling chair tucked under it. The only thing on the desk was a closed laptop. The room was almost obsessively neat. His torn shirt was still a messy fold on the ground, but other than that there was nothing out of place. 

As far as hallucinations went, this was a strange thing to come up with. 

If his grace was at full strength, it would have been the simplest thing in the world to push against the fabric of reality and test the authenticity of the room. He would know in an instant if it was real or if the floor, the walls, the furniture, were nothing more than a fabrication. 

Gabriel didn’t know how much time had passed since he had last been awake, but somewhere deep inside, his grace felt stronger. It was by no means strong enough to pull off an escape, Asmodeus always saw to that, but it would have been strong enough for him to reach out and get his bearings. If he had been brave enough, he could have let it curl out of him and seek out the layout of wherever he was. He could have ghosted over anything living and known in an instant all its thoughts and actions; its entire history if he wanted to. 

There were only two problems. If this really was a hallucination, which it probably was, then that meant he was still in hell, and no matter how weak a demon was, it always knew when a tendril of grace scanned over it. The second problem was that if Asmodeus realized Gabriel’s grace had recharged, even a little, then he would be back to drain himself another fix. 

So Gabriel held himself packed tightly inside, not daring to spread out of his vessel even the slightest bit. This left him blind to half the sensory input he usually got. Worst of all, it left his wings confined; hidden away and pulled close just behind him. They were useless to him on their own plane of existence, but that didn’t mean they weren’t slowly deteriorating there. The muscles had probably wasted away in the decade or so since he had last felt safe enough to pull the six golden appendages out. Gabriel didn’t even want to know what his feathers looked like, even the thought made him nauseous. 

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even hear the soft knock at the door, so when it opened, he had no time to curl back into his corner. He was caught in the middle of the room. 

The tall demon once again stepped inside and Gabriel dropped to the floor on his knees, instantly trembling and fighting for each gasping inhale. He pressed his forehead into the hardwood floor and tried his hardest to shrink away. He wanted to melt right into the ground and cease existing. 

The demon was saying something but Gabriel couldn’t understand a word over the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears. He hoped it wasn’t a command because whenever those were disobeyed the punishment was harsh and swift. The demon pressed a hand between his shoulder blades and Gabriel wrenched himself away. He scrambled back until he slammed into a wall and tried to scream some sort of protest but the stitches kept his mouth glued shut. They pulled against his lips and already Gabriel could taste blood. 

The demon stopped moving. He knelt on the floor for a moment, hands held up, palms open. Gabriel watched him with panicked eyes, tracing his breaths, in and out almost as fast as Gabriel’s own. 

Eventually the noise in Gabriel’s mind faded enough for the demon’s words to filter in.

“-seriously not going to hurt you Gabe. I just came to check if you were okay. I’m so so sorry, I-“ The demon’s voice broke and Gabriel vaguely wondered if he was new to this whole ‘torture the prisoner’ thing. A few years back he might have taken advantage of him if that was the case. Now he was just exhausted. 

“I can’t just leave you alone in here all day Gabe. I’m.. Look, I’m going to sit right here on my bed.” He moved slowly and sat, leaning against the headboard. Gabriel watched his hands the entire time but they remained open, within view, and most importantly, empty. 

“I’m just going to sit here and thats all. Nothing is going to happen to you, nobody is going to hurt you.”

Gabriel would have snorted at that if it wouldn’t have guaranteed that the demon would get up and possibly rape him for being sarcastic. Time passed and the demon didn’t move. The shadows in the room got longer and yet they both stayed where they were, the demon leaning easily against the headboard, Gabriel a coiled heap against the wall.

“I hated you. You know that?” The demon said softly. Gabriel flicked his eyes up to look at him but he wasn’t focused on anything, he seemed to be mostly talking to himself. 

“After that time loop you stuck us in, after I had to watch Dean die every day, I wanted you to suffer like I did. You were just so easygoing and carefree, you didn’t even seem sorry. But then you came back and actually helped out. Watching you get killed by Lucifer, that was-“

The demon broke off again and swallowed audibly. 

_Who was Dean? Who the fuck was Lucifer?_

“But then I jumped into hell and everything moved so quickly and we were all sure you were dead. If I had known you were alive Gabe I would have gone after you. I swear I would have saved you from there somehow. I hate myself for not being able to do that for you because even though I hated you for a while you really didn’t deserve this. I’ve been there too I know what its- what they-“

The demon paused and bit down hard on a knuckle. Gabriel watched him, wondering what horrible thing could possibly happen to a demon in hell. That was their home. 

“I’m sorry Gabriel. I’m so sorry and I hope one day you can forgive us all. I’m-“ the demon let out a shuddering breath. “I’m very glad you’re back.”

Gabriel stared at him. If he could move his face he would probably be gaping. What a stupid speech coming from someone who would no doubt be ripping his flesh to shreds very soon. This all seemed like a far too elaborate plan for a bout of psychological torture, and the realization make his stomach twist. Of course he would get stuck with a demon who liked to play with his food before he devoured it. To lull it to safety and a sense of welcome home before he obliterated all hope from it. 

The demon met his eyes and watched him blankly for a minute.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked softly, out of nowhere. 

Gabriel wanted to scream. Why the fuck would he know who this one random demon was? Instead he just looked at him, hoping his eyes said what his stitched mouth couldn’t.

“Its Sam. Winchester,” the demon said slowly. 

_Winchester?_ Was that supposed to mean something to him?

The demon slumped and looked so exhausted and sad that he seemed to age several years in the next few seconds. Then his phone buzzed, making them both jump. The demon pulled it out of his back pocket and paled at whatever it displayed. 

“Crap.” 

He spared one fleeting glance at Gabriel before practically bolting out of the room. The door swung and clicked shut behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today! You can always tell when I'm supposed to be writing a final paper because I stress write fan fiction instead..

Once the demon had gone Gabriel scrambled back into the corner and resolved to never leave it again. He felt safer there. Barely, but still safer. 

The demon doesn’t return for a long time. Gabriel has no idea how long because there were no clocks in the room. Not that he would trust a clock, they have been known to warp time at the slightest suggestion in Hell. He could have judged it based on the lengthening and shortening of the shadows, except that he spent most of his time with his eyes screwed shut, trying his best to curl himself smaller and disappear. All Gabriel really knew was that it must have been a while, because he could feel his Grace strengthening bit by bit. 

At some point, the door opened again and there was the whispering sound of socked feet on hardwood, then the floofed noise of someone dropping back into a bed. Gabriel was brave enough to open his eyes just a sliver and focus on a whorl of wood in the plank by his foot. His bare and extremely dirty foot, he realized with disgust. 

Nothing happened. 

There was no movement, no sound at all except very irregular and laboured breathing. Gabriel dared to look at the bed, and was actually surprised to see the demon painfully still across it, hand pressed to his side. He must have felt him watching because he turned his head to look at Gabriel. A long strand of hair flopped down on his cheek. 

“I got - stabbed.” He said through gritted teeth. Gabriel marvelled at the fact that he even got an explanation, especially one that revealed a weakness in the demon. 

“Dean stitched it - but I - definitely tore some - muscles.” Along the demon’s brow, there was a thin sheen of sweat. It pressed its hand harder, long fingers spreading out and looking like they were holding the demon’s intestines inside through the force of sheer will.

This was a trap. He knew this pattern. Asmodeus loved to remind him that he was owned. No longer his own angel. He loved to see demonstrations of his angel powers, used only when and how Asmodeus suggested. A healing was expected of him, and if he didn’t follow through, he would be punished. Brutally. Again. Bile rose up in his throat. 

Gabriel swallowed hard and tried to gather the courage to do what he knew he had to. This was how Asmodeus often tested if his Grace was strong enough for another hit, he would send in a test that would force Gabriel to use his powers. Healing this demon meant that within hours, Asmodeus would be back to drain him. The illusion of safety would fizzle out. Gabriel wondered vaguely if the hallucination didn’t contain any torture this time just so his Grace would regenerate faster. 

He felt sick, but he knew if he hesitated too long, things would be so much worse for him. 

His legs felt like they were made of lead as he dragged them underneath himself and stood slowly. The demon watched, frozen, as he shuffled to the edge of the bed. Gabriel realized with a twist that he couldn’t reach him from here. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the mattress, as far as he could possibly be from the demon while still being close enough to touch him. 

Slowly, as if through molasses, Gabriel reached out a trembling hand and touched it to the demon’s side. 

Several things happened all at once.

The demon let out a painful protest and tried to twist away, but it was too late. Gabriel had already touched him. 

His Grace snaked its way into the wound and repaired the damage, but once it was out there was no way it would behave enough for him to tighten it back into his vessel. Gabriel wanted to scream at how exposed he was.

New senses flooded in. This demon had a _soul._ Deep bronze, criss crossed with so many scars it looked webbed. Gabriel couldn’t breathe, both because he had only ever seen a soul this beautiful once in his lifetime, and because if the demon had a soul, that meant it couldn’t be a demon. 

His Grace floated along, skipping over the scars like blade marks in ice. He was flooded with an overwhelming feeling of safety, home, _love._

This was _Sam._

Gabriel exhaled all his breath as memories filtered in, one after another. 

He remembered watching Sam. The millions of little interventions he would do just to make sure the man was safe. He remembered battling demons outside his door just so he could get a few hours of rest. He remembered the crushing feeling of knowing he had done everything wrong, hurt Sam in the worst possible ways, even though he was only trying to help him. 

He remembered the dark and heady feeling of lust he used to have. It was startling as it washed over him, making him flush hotly. It had been years since he had voluntarily had sex, and even that memory flooded back with a hilarious contrast to his time in Hell. Was the ladies man he saw in Sam’s memories really him? Was he really the guy who made porn movies for fun and threw thousands of dollars into his own pleasure just because? It couldn’t have been him, but at the same time, in that moment, he _wanted_ like he hadn’t wanted in years. 

He remembered the shy way Sam used to think of him, and how he had shamelessly listened in on those thoughts as Sam lived out his fantasies, grabbing Gabriel and tossing him onto the bed, kissing him deeply in his mind. Breezing across his soul, Gabriel found none of that lust left over. There was just the glaring impression of fear, of deep anger, of a very complicated hurt. 

He removed his hand, but the loss of contact didn’t mean a loss of information. His Grace helpfully let him know that Sam was feeling confused. Hopeful. Terrified in a way that Gabriel couldn’t handle. 

_Sam._ He croaked before he realized his lips were still sewn shut. Because he had been in _Hell._

Sam’s eyes widened because he understood the recognition anyways. His feeling of relief crashed like a tidal wave into Gabriel’s Grace. 

“Gabriel,” he breathed out, sitting abruptly up into Gabriel’s space, having completely forgotten that just seconds ago he was in too much pain to move. Gabriel nodded, because yes, this was him. He was here, he was alive. 

Sam’s hands came up automatically and grasped Gabriel’s arms, as if he needed solid proof to confirm that Gabriel was real. His hands danced down Gabriel’s forearms, grasped both of his hands. Then they were back on his arms, up to his shoulders, across the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug and tracing lightly down his back. He couldn’t seem to stop moving, touching, sobbing. 

Gabriel let himself be held. He didn’t remember the last time someone had held him. Someone who had cared. His last hug had probably been from a hooker, but he wasn’t dumb enough to believe she had felt something for him and that her contact was genuine. 

With his face buried in the crook of Sam’s neck, Gabriel inhaled a shuddering breath and held it there, trying to keep Sam’s scent in his lungs. On his next inhale, he caught a whiff of himself, a sour scent of old sweat and grime tangled with the metallic scent of blood, layered over with the curdled scent of demon spunk. 

He leaned back the slightest bit and Sam let him go immediately. Gabriel looked at him apologetically. He reeked. 

“What is it Gabe? You want your stitches out?”

Gabriel shook his head. Sam paused, thinking. 

“A shower?”

Damn the kid was good. Gabriel nodded slowly and then hung his head in shame. He couldn’t believe Sam was actually willing to be this close to him when he smelled so bad. 

He fully expected it, but his Grace didn’t give him the news that Sam was secretly disgusted with him. All he got was a feeling of hollow pain from Sam. Gabriel didn’t know what to really do with that. 

“Okay.” Sam stood and crossed to the dresser, pulling out some clothes. “I’ll turn on the water to let it warm up. Be right back.” He ducked out of the room and true to his word, he was at Gabriel’s side again within a minute.

“Do you think you can stand?” Sam asked gently. 

_He wants to help._ His Grace informed him. 

Gabriel scoffed, or tried to. He was a fricking archangel. He could very well stand on his own. He crawled up and off the bed and ignored his protesting joints the entire time. Sam watched with his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides, but said nothing and walked beside Gabriel to the bathroom, which was already steamy from the shower. 

Gabriel swayed in the sudden humidity and grabbed the countertop with one hand. Sam’s arm was under his at once and Gabriel flinched at the sudden contact but Sam didn’t let go. He eased him down to sit on the shut toilet. 

Sam knelt in front of him and opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. 

_He wants to help._ His Grace prompted again.

“Gabe I don’t have to stay. I can let you do your own thing in here but..I really don’t want you to pass out,” Sam admitted. 

Gabriel tilted his head. He wanted to reassure Sam that he would be fine, but he couldn’t because his mouth was shut, and also, he really didn’t know if he would be fine or not. The steamy air was making him dizzy. 

Gabriel reached for the hem of his sweatshirt and tugged it off. Sam seemed to take this as permission, which is exactly what it was. He took a step back to give Gabriel room to shuck off his filthy jeans. Gabriel hesitated for the briefest moment before also peeling off his boxers. He looked up at Sam, but Sam was looking anywhere but at him. 

A brief sweep of his Grace told him that Sam was ashamed, confused, and most of all angry. Gabriel lingered there and it became very obvious that Sam’s shame was from the brief curl of lust he had felt. He was confused about why it was there. He was angry that Gabriel was this hurt, this dirty, this demeaned. 

It was a typical human reaction, but it warmed Gabriel’s heart. He took Sam’s hand and tugged him into the shower. Sam’s t-shirt and jeans caught a tiny bit of the spray, but he didn’t seem to care. Gabriel watched, transfixed, as the water slid down towards the drain, a rusty red brown. 

“Here,” Sam said, offering Gabriel a bottle of body wash. Gabriel held out his hand and Sam squirted some of the viscous soap into his palm. He focused on washing the layers of grime off every inch of his body and tried to ignore how tense Sam was behind him. He couldn’t really blame him, he could feel himself swaying dangerously. 

By the time he finished with his skin, his arms were aching. He turned to face Sam, exhausted. 

“Can I wash your hair?” Sam asked thickly. 

Gabriel nodded and watched as Sam squeezed out a bit of shampoo. He rubbed it into Gabriel’s hair gently, taking care to not get any in his eyes. Gabriel let himself just stand there, naked and warm, and just breathe. Sam guided his head back under the spray, then soaped up his hair again once it was rinsed out. 

“Done,” Sam informed him, letting his wet hands hang back at his sides. Gabriel immediately mourned the loss of contact. 

Sam stepped out of the shower and onto a towel he had laid down. He held up another towel and Gabriel turned off the water and let himself be wrapped up in it. 

“I uh. I left some clothes on the counter,” Sam said, pointing. “Do you think you can handle it from here?”

Gabriel nodded. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go change quickly. Do you remember how to get back to my room?”

Gabriel nodded again. 

“Okay. I’ll just..go.” Sam looked down and only then seemed to realize he had been in the shower with socks on. His clothes weren’t too wet but the socks were soaked. He peeled them off and tossed them into the laundry bin, shutting the door softly behind him on his way out. 

Gabriel stood on the towel, shivering for a moment before he dried himself off. The clothes Sam had left were simple; another sweater and a pair of sweatpants. The boxers he had folded up looked brand new. Gabriel tugged everything on without really looking down at his body. He knew he probably looked like crap and he really didn’t need any confirmation. 

Once all the clothes were on, Gabriel swiped away the steamy film and dared a look at his face in the mirror. The man looking back at him was startling. He had forgotten his hair was blonde. His eyes looked exhausted and dead, and the stupid stitches in his mouth were just grotesque. 

He turned abruptly away from the mirror and walked stiffly back to Sam’s room. The door was open and Gabriel left it that way when he entered. Sam was perched lightly on the corner of the bed, holding the small silver scissors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Guys, this one turned out to be way darker than I had originally intended and I split it off from the previous chapter so I could give a warning to whoever needs it. Its shorter but a lot heavier. Graphic descriptions of torture and rape below. I’ll provide a clean summary in the end note for those of you who choose to skip this chapter. Mind your triggers please <3

Gabriel’s heart hammered in his throat. He wanted the stitches out. Of course he did, but at the same time he couldn’t shake the association of stitch removal with rape. The one always led to the other. 

One look at Sam’s pleading face confirmed that Gabriel would have to at least try. He sat down close to Sam, tipped his head up, and tried not to think. 

“I’m not going to hurt you Gabriel.” 

_He means that._ His Grace supplied. Gabriel watched as Sam inhaled deeply. 

“I don’t know what happened to you down there, but I’ve been there too, and I know nothing good ever happens.”

Gabriel squinted at him. Sam was in hell? He let his Grace do the probing and the memories he saw filled his veins with ice. _Chains, hooks, dripping sweat, knives, drills, rape, axes, drownings._

Gabriel marvelled at the man sitting in front of him and wondered how he was able to get up in the mornings. He tipped his head up again because he needed his mouth free. Damn all the other times, this time he needed his stitches out so he could talk. He needed to tell Sam how strong he was. How loved. 

Sam took a deep breathe and held Gabriel’s jaw steady with his fingertips. The other hand raised the scissors and gentle as a butterfly wing, snipped the first stitch. 

_The tip of the knife ghosted over his neck, splitting the skin open just enough for his Grace to slip out. He screamed. Of course he did. It felt like his bones were being ripped out from his living flesh. Asmodeus smiled, wide and toothy; a promise of more pain yet to come._

Sam tugged the string out, dropped it on a napkin, and cut the second stitch.

_Gabriel was hanging by his ankles, swinging violently on a chain. Each blow sent him careening across the room, only to come careening back. A bug on a pendulum. The leather whip curled over his abdomen in a stinging line and the tip of it bit deep into his cheek, just under his eye. Blood dripped down and he blinked. The room tinted red._

The second stitch was pulled free and Sam snipped the third.

_The needle plunged into his neck and he was forced to relive it again. He sagged as his brain replayed the memory. Lucifer. His brother. His favourite brother. Beloved by all. The darling of heaven. The Morningstar. Eyes pleading, broken as Dad banished him. His wings steamed and the muscle fell away from the bone in cooked chunks. His screams rang so loud that canyons opened on earth. Stars imploded with grief. Gabriel cast his eyes down and did nothing like the coward he was. He did nothing as the floor of heaven yawned wide and his brother, his heart, fell. Black smoke billowed up from his Grace and the smell lingered for hours as he fell. For years._

The fourth stitch was out but Gabriel was barely aware of it. He was in his head. Very far gone. 

_Kali was dragged into his cell and Gabriel marvelled at how beautiful she was, even when she was livid with anger. He forgot his surroundings for one blessed moment, but then Asmodeus cleared his throat and the world crashed down. Through the fog, he heard Asmodeus ordering him to kill her. His insides twisted. He must have heard wrong because no. That was too far. Asmodeusu’s eyes flashed dangerously and Gabriel wanted to scream. He was freshly drained, barely strong enough to hold his head up, let alone kill someone even if he wanted to. And fuck he did not want to. Asmodeus seemed almost pleased that Gabriel hadn’t moved. He waved a hand and three demons entered the cell, surrounding Kali. They tore into her, claws, teeth, bare hands. Gabriel felt himself moving forward but was jerked back abruptly by a hand at his throat. In his ear, Asmodeusu snarled that next time, he should obey more quickly. Gabriel barely heard him as he watched Kali get sliced to ribbons._

“Almost done,” someone close to him said. Gabriel wanted to open his eyes and see who was talking, but he was trembling too hard and if he moved he would surely shake apart. 

_The last stitch was ripped out and Gabriel didn’t even have a chance to inhale before his head was shoved down and his jaw was wretched open. Something far too big was shoved down his throat and he gagged at the same time his jaw cracked off it’s hinge. He thought he might pass out, that the sudden pain couldn’t get any worse, but then whatever was in his mouth suddenly pulled back and infinitely more pain erupted from everywhere. He’s barbed…Gabriel thought vaguely to himself. The demon didn’t even have to tell him to swallow. He was already swallowing because the blood gushing from his mouth and throat was pooling, making him choke._

“Done,” Said the voice, but Gabriel remained frozen. If he didn’t move, it wasn’t real. 

A thumb feathered gently over his bottom lip and that was enough to break him out of his trance. He knew. He fucking knew this would happen again. 

He tore open his eyes, jerked back, and fell straight off the bed. He kept crawling backwards, thrashing to get away until he slammed into the wall, somehow ending up under the desk. Oh fuck. That was Sam. This was cruel. The cruelest hallucination Asmodeus could have come up with. The most intricate, the most convincing, and despite the years of torture he had endured, this was the most painful. 

He knew for sure now that the room wasn’t real. The shower hadn’t been real, and Sam wasn’t real. Sam was a demon wearing a very fucking convincing meat suit, and now he was going to fuck him and Gabriel couldn’t handle that. He’d take a whipping, hell he’d take a boiling any day over being raped by Sam Winchester. 

He slammed his head back against the wall, The room shook and he did it again, trying to knock out the hallucination. 

“GET OUT” he screamed at Asmodeus, who was no doubt digging into his brain.

The demon practically ran across the room. It wasn’t far enough, but it was working. Gabriel slammed his head back again and his vision swam. Fucking finally. He would be out of this illusion and back in Hell where he belonged. 

Gabriel banged his head back again and this time the demon actually ran out. He left the door open but that didn’t matter, because in the next second everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel allows Sam to remove his stitches, but he is flooded by memories of hell and really doesn't handle it well. He ends up shouting until Sam leaves the room and he passes out under the desk.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah okay. Forget the paper. Here's another chapter instead. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented so far, you made me smile way too wide

Gabriel woke in the dark. He panicked right away, because although it was dark in Hell, it was never _this_ dark. While he was unconscious, his Grace had curled itself tightly back into his body, and he didn’t dare let it out again now. He inhaled a shallow breath and it took him a couple seconds to register that there was another presence in the room. 

No. Not in the room. 

Surrounding him. 

He would have freaked the fuck out except that he knew that soft warmth; that gentle unobtrusive wash of Grace. 

“Cassie?” He croaked, surprised that his voice still worked. 

_“Hello brother.”_ Castiel responded in Enochian. Hearing the language made something in Gabriel’s mind click. No demon could speak Enochian. They would burn from existence. It could not be spoken in a place as unholy as Hell, which must mean that wherever he was, he wasn’t in Hell. 

_“I’m here.”_ Castiel murmured softly. Gabriel’s eyes adjusted slightly and he could see that he was actually wrapped in a loose cocoon of feathers. There were thin streams of light filtering through, and he could just make out the outline of a head and a crouched body a few feet away from him. 

_“Cassie where am I?”_ Gabriel asked, voice nothing over a whisper. It felt foreign and forbidden to speak in Enochian, but the remaining sliver of his old rebellious self was deeply satisfied that he still remembered how. 

_“You’re in a Men of Letters bunker. Sam and Dean have been living here for a few years.”_

Gabriel noted that he didn’t try to convince him that he was safe. He was grateful; he knew his brother understood that safety was never a guarantee. They had fought too many wars side by side for false reassurances like that. 

_“Are we alone?”_

_“Dean is in the garage. Sam is pacing in the library.”_

Gabriel took a moment to absorb this information. Dean. In a garage. That meant he probably had his car there, which meant he probably did consider this place home. Gabriel knew a lot about the man, but the thing he was most sure of was that if Dean felt safe enough to relax and work on his car, then it was a safe place. 

_“No demons?”_ Gabriel asked in a small voice, because he had to ask. 

_“No demons. See for yourself.”_

Gabriel did. With the speed of an old man on two broken legs, he unfurled his Grace and let it seep into the room around him. The only thing he noted was Castiel, a warm and worried pulse surrounding him. He expanded further and found nothing in the hall. Nothing at all until he reached the library, where there was an echo of that scarred bronze soul. Castiel was right. Sam was pacing. He was also so stressed that Gabriel felt a pang of it all the way here, under the safe canopy of his brother’s dark wings. Further out he found what must have been Dean, a dark gold pulse that didn’t seem to be feeling or thinking much. Actually if Gabriel concentrated, he could faintly feel it bopping along to Led Zeppelin. 

He curled back closer to the room but let himself hover, a loose ten meter diameter. 

_“What happened to Sam?”_

_“You.”_

Gabriel’s stomach sank so fast he thought he might have lost it.

_“Did I hurt him?”_ If he was able to keep the horror out of his voice, Castiel still would have been able to see it in his Grace. 

_“No. You scared him.”_

The answer didn’t make him feel any better, but Castiel had already moved on. 

_“You’ve been here for a week now. Asmodeus hasn’t turned up. Dean thought he found a lead but it turned out to be a trap. He contacted Sam just in time.”_

Gabriel nodded, numb, and remained fixated on the time frame. A week? It felt like a day, two tops. He supposed time was no longer his to judge, having spent so much of it with no idea of how quickly it was passing. 

_“Can I open my wings?”_ Cas asked him gently. Gabriel realized with a start that they were both still cocooned inside like two human children in a blanket fort. He nodded, feeling guilty that Castiel had spent so long in a position that couldn’t have been comfortable. His Grace unhelpfully informed him that Cas had been like that for hours, and his guilt flared until a tendril of Castiel’s warmth washed over him, giving the clear message that _it was all okay._

Castiel’s wings made a soft rustle as they lifted and folded along the ground behind him. They were so big they seemed too large for his body, definitely too large to be out while he was sitting. They shifted for a bit before Cas gave up and stood with an annoyed look on his face. He reached a hand down to help Gabriel up as well. 

Gabriel looked long and hard at his brother, who had aged in the last decade. They had spent centuries together. Gabriel could remember the day Castiel was born; nothing but a teeny dark thing. He remembered him as a fledgeling, zooming around him in circles trying to convince him to come for a flight. But now, watching him stand there with the wings of a soldier folded at his back, Gabriel realized he hadn’t caught the moment when his baby brother became a man. 

He accepted the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. Whether it was his own Grace, or Cas’s, he couldn’t be sure, but he wasn’t sore anymore. 

Castiel didn’t let go of his hand, but Gabriel didn’t mind. He needed the contact even if he wasn’t willing to ask for it. 

_“What can I do for you Gabriel?”_

Gabriel shook his head. That was one heck of a loaded question. For his body? He felt okay now. For his mind? Castiel had already calmed the worst of his fears. For his thirst for revenge? Asmodeus’s head on a platter. But he said none of that, because no words would come out. 

Castiel watched him with that even look of his, and eventually opened his mouth to let out a weak _“will you-“_

Castiel stopped. Gabriel squinted at him, wondering what was wrong. It was unlike his brother to stutter. _“Gabriel will you groom my wings?”_

Ah. He knew what Castiel was really asking. What he really wanted was to help Gabriel with his own wings, but simple angel etiquette said that grooming was a two way street. Cas was simply making the first step. 

A pulse of his Grace told him Castiel was being genuine and meant no harm whatsoever. His was warmer if anything. Stronger. 

After a moment, Gabriel nodded assent. 

Castiel turned and Gabriel got a good look at his gleaming black feathers. Most of them were perfectly straight, all of them were well oiled. They looked like they had been groomed very recently, and when he drifted his fingers over them, he realized with a start that they had been. 

Dean’s scent was all over them. 

He had never heard of a human grooming an angel, not unless it was in a very kinky way. Gabriel smirked, putting two and two together. 

_“So I guess you’ve been getting some dick huh?”_

Castiel turned to look a him over one shoulder. 

_“Just one actually,”_ He answered, completely unflustered because to Cas, a fact was a fact and nothing more. 

Gabriel snorted despite himself and straightened a couple of the feathers. 

_“Brother, there really isn’t anything left for me to do.”_

Castiel rolled his shoulders and tucked his wings more comfortably against his back. 

_“Then I believe it is your turn.”_

Gabriel wanted to protest that it would be way too much work, and not just because he had three times the number of wings as Cas did. But the protests died in his throat because really, his wings were so neglected that they physically hurt, even from their own dimension. 

He took a deep breath and brought them into existence. 

It was so much worse than he thought it would be. 

The six wings drooped limply to the ground, muscles weakened and wasted so badly that they couldn’t even hold themselves up. Gabriel wanted to curl up and break down again. It was all he could do to just keep breathing. He was in so much pain, everything felt like it was on fire. 

The wings were so dull that they were almost brown, a far cry from the proud gleaming gold they used to be. 

Castiel’s face was like stone when Gabriel looked up at him, and to a human that might have meant he was unaffected, but Gabriel could see right through him. He could see the way his Grace twisted and screamed, nearly as anguished as Gabriel felt. 

He put a gentle hand on Gabriel’s shoulders and pressed down, guiding him to sit on the floor again. The wings pooled further and Gabriel wanted to move them, but they wouldn’t budge. He hung his head down, a blonde curl falling into his eyes. 

Castiel stripped out of his trench coat and got started on the top pair. Gabriel would be lying if he said it felt nice. Every inch was burning. Every tug of the loose feathers, every brush against his dry and neglected skin _hurt._ By the time Castiel finished with one wing, he had a substantial pile of feathers in a neat heap by his feet. Gabriel wanted to laugh and make a joke about nesting preparations, but he couldn’t think of how to phrase it. He could barely get over the fact that no mate would want those dull and frayed feathers anywhere near their nest to begin with. 

Castiel worked in silence physically, but his Grace was a constant source of entertainment. As he worked, he told Gabriel stories in emotions, shades of being, impressions, and the occasional flick of a memory. Gabriel was almost distracted from the pain and actually laughed out loud at a story of how Dean had neglected to buy anything fresh on a grocery run and Sam had bought nothing but salad next time he went out in retaliation. 

He didn’t even realize his glands had produced some oil until Cas swiped a hand through it and rubbed it into the twin joints of his top wings. His hand returned to Gabriel’s lower back frequently, and foot by foot, his feathers didn’t feel quite as dry. 

It took a long time; Gabriel felt it in his knees, but by the time Castiel declared that he finished and sat down heavily on the bed, Gabriel felt better than he had in years. He flexed the wings slightly and was surprised when all six of them curled forwards and around him, like old friends coming together for a hug. 

He stared at Cas in awe.

_“You were in pain. I restored some muscle strength with my Grace but you will likely need to do many flight exercises to regain your usual power back.”_

_“Thank you,”_ Gabriel croaked out, throat feeling thick with emotion. Castiel nodded, but his eyes gleamed, almost proud. 

“Can I send Sam up?” He asked tentatively, in English this time. 

Gabriel immediately burned with shame again and nodded quickly. Castiel stood, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and stepped out of the room. 

Several long minutes later, half of Sam appeared in the open doorway. His eyes were red and he stood frozen, staring. Gabriel belatedly realized he had all his wings out and there were feathers strewn all across the floor in a thick layer. He watched Sam swallow and forcibly step closer, wishing he could reassure Sam without words like he could with Castiel, but it wasn’t as simple to send an emotion to a soul. 

Instead, he opened his arms in a clear invitation. 

Sam practically flung himself into them. He crashed to his knees in front of Gabriel and muttered all sorts of apologies before Gabriel’s wings came up and wrapped around them, all three pairs hugging tight. 

Gabriel sighed deeply against Sam’s strong chest and marvelled at how he could have spent an entire week thinking this sweet lumbering tree man was a demon in a meat suit. He let out a laugh but it came out as a harsh sob instead. Sam threaded his fingers into his hair and held him close, seemingly with no intention of letting go. 

Which was fine. Gabriel had no intention of leaving.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go my lovelies.

Gabriel woke to a soft warm weight pressed against his chest. He opened his eyes slowly, and even once they adjusted to the gently streaming sunlight, he wasn’t fully convinced that he was awake. Theres no way he could actually be laying on the floor, wings wrapped around a sleeping Sam. It had to be a dream. 

But no. His grace was far too tangled up with that bronze soul for this to be anything but reality. He sighed deeply and _revelled_ in the fact that he was safe; no longer in Hell. 

He felt strong. Stronger than he had been allowed to get in a decade. His Grace thrummed through his veins and wove its way though the bunker, pulsing and sensing, absorbing information continually. Never again would he allow himself to be taken captive and used. His body was his own, his mind was his own, his time was his own, and anyone who tried to push him a different way would be _obliterated._

Gabriel felt a flare of anger that had been simmering since his capture. It felt good. Terrifying and wide open, like standing at the edge of a waterfall, but still good. He would get even someday. 

Sam’s soul sent out a gentle pulse of warmth that surprised Gabriel right out of his thoughts for revenge. He looked over at that serene sleeping face, startled. It was the easiest thing in the world to slip into Sam’s mind; possibly because it was completely unguarded in it’s careless dreaming.

Sam let out a soft sigh. Gabriel both heard it, and saw the reason for it. 

In a hazy image, he saw a tangle of writhing limbs moving in a steady rhythm in the mess of pillows on the bed. At first it wasn’t clear who was involved, because the dream was unfocused, more _feeling_ than specifics, and it felt _hot._

Then Sam uttered a sound that was half of a moan and half _Gabriel_ and suddenly all the heat in the room pooled between Gabriel’s legs. He became acutely aware of every point where his body was pressed into Sam’s. Cheek in his silky hair, chest tight against his, hand at the small of his back, a finger brushing the sliver of skin where his shirt had ridden up, a thigh wedged between his own. Three of Gabriel’s wings were spread lazily at his back, but the other three were curled around Sam, keeping him close. 

He watched, transfixed, as the hazy dream version of himself pulled Sam down for a bruising kiss while Sam set a fast pace, hands wandering _everywhere._

With no warning, the dream jerked away. 

Gabriel could pinpoint the exact moment that Sam woke up because his entire body stiffened so suddenly it was as if a bucket of ice had been dumped over him. His mind pieced together where he was and how he got there while his soul was a dizzying whirlwind of colours; like someone had set off a round of fireworks in a room filled with bouncy balls.

“Gabriel,” he breathed out. His hand fisted into Gabriel’s shirt and he tucked his face against his chest. 

_Embarrassed._ His Grace supplied. 

“Morning Samsquatch,” Gabriel answered. His throat felt raw but he didn’t know if it was from not speaking or from eavesdropping on Sam’s dream. Either way, even _he_ could recognize that he had morning after voice, which didn’t help the uh, hard, situation for either man. 

Sam started to shift his hips back, probably so he wouldn’t be pressed so obviously against the angel, but the arm Gabriel had slung over his back tightened to keep him in place before he was even conscious of the movement. 

Sam swallowed and Gabriel could feel it against his chest. He inhaled deeply and got a lungful of Sam’s shampoo, which frankly, smelled like a manly dessert buffet. Gabriel buried his nose in Sam’s hair. 

“Uh, Gabe?” Sam asked against his sweater. Gabriel hummed. 

“What are you doing?”

“Your hair smells nice,” Gabriel informed him, voice muffled against his head. 

“Oh,” Sam answered dumbly. 

The smallness of that answer made something in Gabriel’s stomach swoop. He wanted a kiss, and that want surprised him far more than Sam’s dream had. He hesitated, thinking back to how embarrassingly he had flipped out when the man cut out his stitches, but screw it. This was his body again. If he wanted a kiss he would damn well ask for it. 

“Sam,” He started, kind of cursing, kind of loving how low his voice rumbled. 

“Hm?” Sam asked, tipping his head up. And yup. There was that swoop again. Gabriel made a mental note to repaint all the walls in Heaven the colour of Sam’s eyes next time he was there.

“Kiss me,” He rasped. 

Sam hesitated only a moment, but then understanding broke over his soul like a sunrise. Somewhere after his own rocky history in Hell, he must have also felt Gabriel’s current need to reclaim his body for his own again. He surged up and pressed a kiss to Gabriel’s lips. It wasn’t hot, it wasn’t needy, he didn’t fight for entrance, for dominance, for more. He simply kissed and allowed Gabriel to lead wherever he wanted it to go. 

Gabriel pulled away after a couple long seconds and tipped his forehead against Sam’s, sighing deeply.

“Sammy…I have wanted to do that for so long,” Gabriel admitted quietly, only a little surprised that it still rang true. 

“Feel free to do it again,” Sam breathed. “Whenever you’re ready. Whenever you want.” The revelation was so light, as if he hadn’t just admitted to a decade old desire. 

And of course Sam would say something so open and non demanding. Of course his soul would blossom with little bright spots of happiness from a simple kiss. Of course it would be completely _satisfied_ with whatever Gabriel offered. Not only did he not verbally push for more, he didn’t even subconsciously desire more at the time.

Gabriel exhaled and it felt like something inside him was opening. A tightly coiled defence system unravelled and with a surge of awe, he realized just how much he trusted Sam. This man would never hurt him. This man would never demand access to his body. This man would stop if Gabriel asked. 

Gabriel pulled Sam in for a tight hug, both because he suddenly needed more contact, but also because he didn’t want Sam to see the wetness in his eyes. It was a long time before he pulled away again. 

Sam opened his mouth to say something when his stomach beat him to it and made a loud rumbling noise. 

“Breakfast?” Gabriel asked with a small smile. Who would have thought he would ever get to do something normal like eat again.

“I can bring something up here,” Sam said quickly. Gabriel shook his head.

“I can’t hide here forever Samshine.” Sam’s soul did what can only be described as an internal squeal at hearing the nickname. Gabriel allowed himself a shadow of a smirk before he stood and reached a hand down to haul Sam up as well. 

His wings folded tight against his back but he still felt too exposed at the thought of parading around the house with them out. It took a moment to convince his brain that no, putting them away now didn’t mean they couldn’t come out again until the next decade, it was just for a little while. He put in a final effort and slid them back into their own dimension where they flapped out again, annoyed. 

“Ready?” Sam asked, holding open the door. 

“Ready.” Gabriel declared, stepping after him and into the hall. He was totally calm all the way down the hallway, even down the staircase, but when the space opened up into a large room with what looked like a war table, he froze. 

He was too vulnerable. There was too much space all around him. No walls pressing in close, protecting him from attacks. 

Sam must have noticed him stop because he was only alone for only half a second before the man was at his side. He reached down and twined his fingers with Gabriel’s, which startled him straight back to earth. 

Gabriel looked up at him and pressed his face into that muscled chest. It took a few long moments of just breathing before he could move again, but they eventually made it to the kitchen. Sam never let go of his hand. 

The sight of the kitchen made Gabriel melt somewhat. First of all it was covered in flour. There was a bag of mini chocolate chips that someone had torn open a little too violently and it was scattered across a countertop. Dean was at the stove flipping pancakes but the stack he had made was already way too tall and leaning dangerously. He was waving a spatula at Cas, who half buried in the fridge and was, from the sounds of it, trying to follow his instructions on which toppings to set on the table. 

“Gabriel,” Cas said, once he saw them. He set the mustard back in the fridge and closed the door. Dean flipped off the stove and turned around, startled. 

“Man it is good to see you,” He said with a wide smile. “I made pancakes!” He picked up the heavy plate and held it up as if to prove that yes, he really did make them and they were real. 

“Hi,” Gabriel said, unsure of what was really expected of him. If the other men found the silence awkward, they didn’t show it as they sat at the table and filled their plates. Sam split a large pot of coffee into four mugs. He added cream and about seven spoonfuls of sugar into one before handing it to Gabriel. 

Gabriel wrapped his hands around the warmth of the mug, fingers brushing Sam’s. 

“So. You’re back. How’s it going?” Dean asked, blunt as a spoon. 

“Better now that I’m not being tortured,” Gabriel answered, a little surprised at his own sass. It felt good to slowly slip back into his old ways. He added two more spoonfuls of sugar to his mug. 

“Yeah well,” Dean shrugged. “Nothing like a stint in Hell to make you appreciate regular air.”

Gabriel nodded bitterly, then thanked Sam as he forked three pancakes onto his plate. He slid the can of whipped cream and the chocolate sauce closer as well. Gabriel drowned his plate. 

The first bite was nothing short of heaven. It had been nearly ten years since he had eaten anything, and the sweetness was unreal. He vowed to eat sugar daily for the rest of eternity to make up for the loss. 

They had almost finished eating when the lights shut off with a loud and sudden clang. 

In the red glow of the emergency lights, Sam and Dean both stood, pulling out knives from who knows where. Castiel’s Grace wove closer and almost solidified into a protective barrier around the room, but it was no use. Gabriel would recognize that dark putrid scent anywhere. There were demons in the bunker. _Asmodeus_ was in the bunker. 

His stomach clenched; the pancakes felt like stones in his belly. He forgot how to breathe, how to move. 

The boys and Cas formed a loose line and stalked through the kitchen archway into the war room, weapons up and defences high. Gabriel sat frozen at the table, not really seeing anything. He felt the demons advancing from the other room and he knew he should warn the boys. He knew Cas probably also felt them get closer, but then he realized that Cas hadn’t just spent a decade in Hell getting attuned to the different vibrations of demon movement. 

He was about to stand. Swear to god he was just going to, when two demons materialized by his side.

They clamped their meat suited hands around his arms and dragged him up. The chair fell backwards with a loud smack but Gabriel was too distracted to care. From the other room, he heard Dean scream out. He sensed Sam get punched hard in the jaw. He felt the jolt in Castiel’s grace as he got thrown against a wall. 

The demons dragged him into the other room and there he was, standing there in that stupid white suit. Asmodeus. 

He smiled calmly and Gabriel wanted to throw up. He wanted to rip his own eyeballs out so he would never have to see that face again. 

“I’ve come to claim what’s mine.” Asmodeus jeered. Gabriel felt his body go nearly limp from fear and it was a good thing the demons holding him were strong or he would have face planted. 

“Oh, I missed you boy. I’m going to have to punish you rather severely I’m afraid.” Gabriel’s heart skipped a couple beats. His lungs forgot how to expand. Asmodeus nodded once to the demons and they dragged Gabriel up towards the stairs. He was too horrified to even understand what was happening, let alone to move. _Forget_ about resisting. 

Asmodeus turned towards the men, who were slumped against the far wall. He raised a hand and suddenly all three doubled forward in pain. Sam’s groan tore straight through Gabriel’s heart. 

No. That really would not do. The panic in Gabriel’s mind cleared in an instant. He shot his Grace out through his skin and the demons holding him didn’t even have time to protest before they evaporated. 

Asmodeus turned to look at him with the start of a smirk on his face, but it shifted rather quickly to a controlled look when he saw Gabriel was standing tall, eyes no doubt gleaming. 

“Gabriel.” He said like a chastising father. “What are you doing son? You know too well what I can do to you. I broke you.” 

Gabriel stood up straighter and let his wings unfurl. He didn’t care how crazy he looked. He felt wild. Jubilant. 

“Then Asmodeus. You fucker. You will die against all my broken pieces.”

He reached out a hand and let a good portion of grace fly outwards and wrap around Asmodeus. He tore at his clothes, his flesh, his bones. He pulled each atom apart, then split each atom into its own pieces. 

To say he destroyed him was an understatement. He didn’t just smash him to bits; he banished him from existence. 

Vaguely, he felt some laws of physics telling him he shouldn’t destroy energy. But fuck it. He was a fucking archangel and he could do what he wanted. He would be damned if he ever came across a single pulse of energy that used to be Asmodeus for the rest of eternity. 

Far too soon, there was nothing left to eradicate. 

Gabriel let his hand sink back down to his side and he only had a moment to register the terrified faces of the Winchesters and his dear brother before the room tilted and the floor came up to meet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I could technically end it here, but I have a question for you. Do you guys want a smutty last chapter? I hesitate to post one because first of all, I really suck at writing smut, but also I never know if my readers went into this just for a smut free fic. I'm very torn so let me know what you would like to read please!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised smut, but it didn’t feel natural for Gabe to be willing to jump straight into sex so soon after all the horrors of hell. I feel like Sam would give him more time…
> 
> Who am I kidding? This is just me postponing the smutty chapter because I’m very self conscious of the way I write steamy stuff and I feel like it always turns out cheesy and fake. 
> 
> It is coming.
> 
> As soon as I stop tearing it apart with my edits I will post it, but for now I hope you enjoy the following fluff.

Gabriel was conscious well before he opened his eyes. He had learned long ago that it was wise to get your bearings before letting on that you were ready for round two of whatever it was that knocked you out in the first place. 

He had a vivid memory of completely wiping Asmodeus from the face of the planet. But then, what if it was all a dream? Some drug induced fantasy? It definitely wouldn’t have been the first of its kind, but then again, what if this was _real_? What if Asmodeus really _was_ dead? What if he wasn’t in hell anymore? It could be true; Gabriel’s Grace felt well used, but still millions of times stronger than it had been for years. 

Was it worth it to scan his surroundings and see if Asmodeus’s death was real? Should he risk the beating of a lifetime for using his Grace? It was stupid, and he knew it was stupid, but his answer was _yes._ Gabriel would trade anything to get rid of this blind panic, even if it was unbearable pain. 

He spread out slowly at first, and immediately bumped into another Grace; warm, slow, thick. It seemed to rejoice at the sight of him, not get angry, so Gabriel slipped quickly past it and out. 

One soul. Two. Harmless. 

Further, he found dead air, then more souls. Further out, a lot more souls. A pocket dimension. Demons. An entrance to hell. He scanned that too. A whole assortment of monster auras. 

A group of angels. Non-hostile. 

More demons, but they were very spread out. 

Then his Grace bumped back into itself and Gabriel realized he must have encircled the planet. Throughout all of that, no Asmodeus. Not a single trace of him. 

He called his Grace back closer and it rushed in, crashing into itself and hovering in a loose flood in the room. Slowly, Gabriel opened his eyes. He was propped up against something warm - _Sam_ \- and Castiel was crouched beside him. 

“Gabe, oh thank god,” Sam hugged him tighter when he stirred. 

“Can’t - breathe,” Gabriel choked out. 

“Do not be dramatic brother. You do not need air,” Castles said, but despite his words he was clearly relieved. Dean put a hand on his shoulder from above him and Gabriel watched the slow squeeze, transfixed. 

“That was awesome man," Dean said, truly sounding in awe. 

“He’s gone?” Gabriel asked, almost meekly.

“Completely.” His brother answered curtly. His Grace reflected a calm picture of honesty. Either he was telling the truth, or he very strongly believed he was telling the truth, and that was good enough for Gabriel. He relaxed back against Sam.

“Well thank fuck.”

Sam snorted from over his shoulder and Dean pulled Cas up by a hand. 

“It’s been a busy morning, and I’m sorry for this, but we have some things we need to discuss right away. What do you say to some beers on the couch?” Dean offered. 

Gabriel thought it sounded like a good idea, but the murderous glare Sam shot his brother made him immediately suspicious. He followed the group to the living room and picked a squashy chair to sit in anyways. A few moments later, Dean handed him a chilled beer and sat across from him. 

“So here’s the deal Gabe,” Dean started, holding his beer in both hands and rolling the unopened bottle. “A lot has happened since you’ve been..gone. Lucifer had a son, a nephilim - Jack.“

Gabriel choked on his sip of beer at those words and Dean paused, letting him compose himself again. He bit his tongue and refused to ask any questions until Dean finished talking, because if Dean was leading with that, then he doubted a nephilim was the worst of their problems. 

“Long story short, a rift was opened into an alternate world where Michael is leading an apocalypse. Our mom and Jack, who isn’t evil by the way, are stuck there,” Dean continued. 

“I don’t know if you were planning on sticking around or not but,” Dean paused, his eyes flicking to Sam who was stoically not looking at him. “We need your Grace to open the rift again.”

Gabriel’s eyes snapped up and he saw three hopeful faces looking back at him. He wanted to help, he really did, but the only problem was he actually couldn’t breathe. His skin prickled at the thought of another Grace extraction; of feeling weak and drained and freshly ravaged again. The pancakes he had eaten earlier threatened to force their way back up and he just felt _sick._

Sam was at his side in an instant, his soul reaching out like a worried mother. It was charming, but not helping in the slightest because no matter what, the situation wasn’t going to change. They needed his Grace and Gabriel could either run away again. Far away. Which was definitely an option. Or he could agree to be violated. 

“- out now, we can come back to this later, or try to figure out something else.” 

Gabriel tuned in to Sam, who must have been talking for a while. He looked down at his huge pleading eyes and suddenly the room was too hot. Too small. 

He pulled away his hands, which had at some point become enveloped in Sam’s, and stood. He knew what he needed to do, but it couldn’t be done now. Not this very second. 

“I need to go,” He squeezed out. It felt like there was a noose tightening around his throat and he snapped himself away before he could even consider where he wanted to land. 

Turns out he wanted to land someplace where he felt safe, and he materialized in none other than Sam’s bedroom, already buried under the covers. He didn’t even try to deny that the scent of Sam all around him immediately put his mind at ease. Sam would never take anything away from him by force. 

Gabriel tugged the covers over his head and eventually, he calmed down enough to drift off. 

He woke sometime later to a slight shift in the bed, and knew before even looking that it was Sam. Nobody else charged the air quite that way. 

“Gabriel,” Sam whispered. He lifted the covers just far enough to peek his head out. 

“I just wanted to check if you’re okay. It’s been a while and everyone is worried. Dean didn’t mean to freak you out.” 

“I’m fine,” Gabriel mumbled into the blanket. 

“Okay,” Sam answered eventually. Gabriel didn’t even need to look at his soul to know Sam didn’t believe him; his face said it all. 

“Alright so I’m not fine, this whole situation sucks, but I will be. I’ll - I will help you. I want to. It’s just hard to think about my Grace-“

“Gabriel,” Sam interrupted. “Breathe. Nobody is doing anything right now. Definitely not tonight. Not _ever_ unless you say you want to.”

Gabriel did breathe, and a wave of guilt immediately hit him. 

“Sam I can’t do this. I can’t keep being some torn up rag doll that needs to be treated gently. I’m broken as fuck, but I won’t be broken forever. Dammit I’m an archangel, I can’t let a couple years of torture get me down like this.”

“Gabe…” Sam started, eyes full of some emotion Gabriel couldn’t quite pin down. “I get it. You’re one of the most powerful people I’ve ever known. And you kick ass. But…we’re here. I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.” Sam shifted from his perch on the edge of the bed to face Gabriel better. 

Suddenly not being alone sounded really good. Gabriel wanted to completely absorb Sam so he would never have to be alone again. The distance between them was unbearable, so Gabriel decided to fix it. He crawled out from under the covers and pushed Sam back into the pillows. He swung a leg over him and sat firmly on his hips, then laid down, plastering himself over the taller man’s chest. 

“Hi,” Sam said, surprised. He immediately wrapped both arms behind Gabriel’s back, holding him closer and caging him in, but Gabriel didn’t feel trapped, he just felt safe. 

“Hi,” he answered back lamely. “Will you do it?”

“Do what?” Sam asked, voice carefully even. 

“Take some Grace,” Gabriel explained, trying to keep the warble out of his voice.

“Gabe..” Sam trailed off again. He rubbed his hands up and down the length of Gabriel’s back, putting slight pressure with his fingertips. “I’m serious. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

Gabriel turned his head so his face was pressed into Sam’s chest. He inhaled deeply and let the scent of Sam’s shirt calm him slightly. 

“I want it over with.”

Sam didn’t answer for a long time, then he very quietly asked, “are you sure?”

Gabriel nodded against his chest, and Sam sat up in the bed, lifting Gabriel up with him. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small switchblade and a vial. Gabriel snorted.

“You came prepared.”

Sam looked at him like a cornered animal. “No. I didn’t mean to do it now, I just didn’t want anyone else doing it either. Not that Cas or Dean would have done it without your permission, I just-“

“Sam. Stop rambling. It’s fine,” Gabriel said. He pulled back off Sam’s chest and shut his eyes firmly, tipping his head back so Sam could cut his throat. He waited, but nothing happened, so he eventually opened his eyes to look at Sam again. 

“I uh. Is there any other way to do this?”

Gabriel watched both his eyes and his soul and it became glaringly obvious that Sam felt like he was taking something he wasn’t allowed to take, even though he had permission. 

“Just do it Sammy, I’m fine,” Gabriel reassured him, but Sam still didn’t move. He picked up his hand instead and held the small switchblade to the tip of his index finger. 

“Would this work instead?” He asked, eyes pleading.

Gabriel watched him, mesmerized at his level of thoughtfulness. Nobody had ever tried to extract Grace from him in that way, it had always been done through the neck, like an animal left to be drained to death. 

“Probably,” he croaked out through the tightness in his throat, a feeling which for the first time in a while, was not born of fear.

Sam made the smallest prick in the pad of his finger and Gabriel watched as he held the vial up under the cut. He expected the usual gut wrenching pain of extraction to hit him, but it never did. The vial filled slowly and Sam corked it before placing it gently on the nightstand. 

Gabriel healed the tiny cut with a flick of his Grace and Sam lifted the finger to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss to it. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sam said in a whisper. He kissed the finger again, then the palm of Gabriel’s hand. 

“I know,” Gabriel said, just as quietly. He let his hand slide to cup Sam’s face and his thumb brushed over Sam’s lips. 

“What happened to you Sammy?” Gabriel asked, suddenly wanting to know everything he had missed. When had the sweet clueless boy he left behind grown into this worn down man? Gabriel’s Grace brushed over the scars on Sam’s soul, more slowly this time, and he realized with a twist of his heart that they were marks from a whipping. Probably from many whippings. 

“Life,” Sam answered simply. 

Gabriel let out a quiet laugh but at the same time, his heart sank. Life was originally designed to be easy; nothing more than a long endless summer day in a Garden where fruit hung ripe and heavy from every branch. This constant fighting and darkness, that wasn’t life. 

He yearned in that moment to wrap himself around the man in front of him and keep him safe, so he did. He unfurled his wings and cocooned both himself and Sam in a thick wall of feathers. 

This time Sam laughed. “What’s the deal here Gabe? You trying to suffocate me?”

“No, I’m keeping you safe. You’re mine now.” Gabriel said, suddenly realizing he was still sitting in Sam’s lap, legs wrapped around him tightly. 

“I don’t remember you ever being this protective before, you used to be quite feisty actually. I like this,” Sam admitted with a teasing smirk. 

“Hey I’m still feisty. You used to like my feisty,” Gabriel countered. Sam blushed, so he decided to push just a little bit further. 

“Actually you used to fantasize quite a lot about me and my feistiness.”

This time Sam’s jaw dropped and he flushed red. 

“I did not,” he stuttered, but the defence was lame and they both knew it. 

“Sorry hot stuff, you can’t think that loud and expect me not to hear it.”

Sam buried his face in Gabriel’s chest, probably so he wouldn’t have to look him in the eye anymore. Gabriel chuckled and loosened his wings a little, giving them a bit more space, but Sam didn’t pull away. 

“You haven’t thought like that in a while though,” Gabriel started. The dream didn’t count, Sam wasn’t technically in control for that one.

“Yeah I guess not. At first I just couldn’t think about you because it hurt too much to remember over and over how you died. Now…I guess it feels like I’m crossing a boundary.”

Gabriel pulled back a little and looked at him curiously, so Sam continued.

“I’m not stupid Gabe, I know they raped you and beat you, probably at the same time. I just can’t turn you into a sex fantasy anymore because it’s not fair to you. You’ve been taken advantage of way too much already and-”

“Hold on,” Gabriel interrupted. “You think you’d be taking advantage of me?”

Sam stared at him blankly and Gabriel laughed. 

“You’re literally the sweetest piece of ass to ever walk the planet and you think you could ever take advantage of me? Samuel Winchester, it would be an honour to be fucked by you.” 

Sam continued to stare with slight shock and for a second Gabriel thought he had horribly misread all his signals.

“I mean, if you want to. If that’s still a thing you’re kinda hoping for but you’re suppressing because you think you’ll hurt me or whatever. Which you won’t. I basically used to be a sex god before the whole hell mess, and I fully intend to be one again. Not with everyone though, just with you. If you’ll have me. I-“

Sam cut him off with a kiss so startling that Gabriel’s wings all unwrapped themselves and spread out in a massive golden wall. If Sam felt the change, it didn’t distract him from teasing his way into Gabriel’s mouth and battling for dominance. He pulled away just to scrape his teeth on Gabe’s lip, then tug on his bottom lip in a way that shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. 

“I’ll have you Gabe, in whatever way you’ll let me,” Sam whispered against his mouth. Gabriel just nodded and pulled him down for another bruising kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never mind here it is. 
> 
> Feel free to set this chapter as far into the future as you feel like setting it. I imagine it took a couple months for Gabriel to mentally heal this far, but you do you. 
> 
> Also, a little background; Mary and Jack are safe and living in the bunker with the brothers and their angels. They hunt, they kick ass, and they mostly all get along.

Sam slammed the front door on his way in and shook snow off his boots. Both Gabriel and Mary looked up at him questioningly. 

“The car is completely blocked in with snow. I can’t go get groceries because I can’t leave,” Sam explained, frustration practically dripping from his voice. 

“I can go,” Gabriel said quickly. He stood up from his sprawl on the sofa and raised his fingers to snap himself out just as Mary lifted a hand. 

“I’m sure we have enough left to make some soup. Let me try to whip something up before you go out and catch your death.” She whisked out of the living room before Gabriel could remind her that he was an archangel and literally could not get sick. 

Sam pulled his boots and coat off and trudged down to the living room. He stopped in front of Gabriel and gave him an angry peck on the lips. 

“Woah, you’re mad at the weather, not at me, right?” Gabriel asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Sam sighed heavily. “Sorry Gabe. I’m very tired of being cooped up in here. I haven’t been able to go for my morning run in a whole week because its been so slippery outside.”

Gabriel put a cautious hand on Sam’s shoulder, then pulled him into a gentle hug when he wasn’t zapped into oblivion by Sam’s dark mood. 

“I could just melt all the snow you know,”

Sam huffed miserably. “Yeah and have the whole city investigating why its suddenly warm in the middle of January?”

“Or,” Gabriel pulled back, eyes gleaming with a sudden idea. “I could just zap us someplace nice.” 

Sam looked at Gabriel like he had just offered him a million dollars, then the look broke and he squinted in suspicion. 

“Won’t everyone wonder where we went?”

“Sammich you’re dating an archangel. I can literally freeze time.”

Sam seemed to ponder for another moment, but Gabriel already knew he was convinced. In the middle of winter, Sam would do literally anything to see the sun. 

“Get me out of here,” Sam said finally, and just like that Gabriel had free reign. He mentally flipped through all the warm places on earth. He wanted to show off, to spoil his man, but he also wanted to be completely alone with him, so he took him to the most beautiful place he knew. 

He held Sam’s hand, and took him to Day 5. 

They landed in the middle of the lush Garden and as soon as Sam was stable on his feet, a large yellow bird the length of his arm flew down from a mango tree and landed on his shoulder. Sam froze and turned to Gabriel, who laughed lightly. 

“Looks like you’ve made a friend.”

“Yeah.. a friend,” Sam agreed slowly. The bird side stepped it’s way down to the crook of Sam’s elbow. It flared it’s wings, revealing a row of jewel green feathers. 

“What kind of bird is this?” Sam asked as he raised his arm to observe it more closely. 

“I don’t know,” Gabriel answered honestly. “It hasn’t been named yet.”

“Hasn’t been - Gabriel where are we?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow dramatically. “Eden. Day 5.” He watched in satisfaction as Sam’s jaw dropped. The bird flew back into the tree. 

“THE Eden? Gabriel! We aren’t supposed to be here!”

“Relax Samshine. This place hasn’t been touched for centuries. Well technically we’re now the first people to step foot in it. But also we’re not. I created a split in time and broke this reality away from what could have happened. This technically isn’t the real garden of creation. It’s all very hard to explain,” Gabriel trailed off. 

“Yeah no kidding,” Sam agreed. 

“All you really need to know,” Gabriel started, stepping forward to wrap Sam in his arms, “is that we’re finally alone, and it’s way too warm for jeans and a sweater here.” 

“Well what else am I going to wear? We didn’t exactly plan this out very well.”

Gabriel smirked suggestively and Sam gaped at him. 

“No. I know what you’re thinking and I am _not_ walking around naked just because it’s hot outside.”

Gabriel pouted. “Prude. Will you come swimming then? I hear the water’s completely unpolluted.” He tugged Sam through a thicket of fruit trees and into a clearing. There was a thin border of grass that faded into fine white sand, then a stunning clear blue pool of water. 

Gabriel let Sam go and stripped off pieces of clothing as he continued to run to the water. He crashed into it fully naked. 

Sam shook his head, watching him from the grass, but slowly pulled off his own clothing too. He stood for a moment in his boxers before deciding to just screw it, it’s not like Gabriel hadn’t seen him naked hundreds of times already. He dropped the boxers on his pile of clothing and walked boldly into the water. It was much warmer than he expected and he dived fully underneath it once he was deep enough. 

When he popped back up Gabriel swam up to him and wrapped himself around his waist, shamelessly pushing their hips together under the water. 

“Boy am I glad you finally decided to join me. That could have been a really awkward and dramatic entrance otherwise.”

Sam laughed and splashed water at him, but they were pressed so close together that they both got sprayed. 

“Ha,” Gabriel teased. “Now we’re both wet.”

Sam chose not to mention that they were already soaked _before_ he had splashed. He just tipped backwards into the water again, dragging Gabriel down with him. Gabriel unwrapped his legs from Sam’s waist and gave a couple powerful kicks, propelling them back towards the shore. 

Once Sam’s feet could reach the sand again, he walked out of the water, flicking his hair back and running his fingers through it. He wiped water droplets from his face, then flopped back onto the grass to let the sun soak into his bare skin. 

Gabriel walked over and laid back beside him. 

“Sammy last time someone was tempted here, humanity fell,” Gabriel said to the clouds. Sam closed his eyes and stretched, raising his arms above his head.

“I’m tempting you?” He asked cheekily.

“Very much so,” Gabriel answered, trying hard to keep his hands to himself. 

“Well is it still a temptation if I ask for it?”

Gabriel hummed. He didn’t know and he didn’t care. If Sam was asking, then he was going to deliver. He turned onto his side and traced a wet finger over Sam’s lips. Sam kept his eyes closed but he snapped his teeth and bit down on Gabriel teasingly.

“Woah that’s kind of a misleading invitation,” Gabriel protested. His words died in his throat when Sam turned the gentle bite into a slow suck. His tongue flicked suggestively over the tip of Gabriel’s fingers before letting it go. 

Gabriel swallowed and placed a chaste kiss on Sam’s cool lips before continuing downwards. He traced his jaw, the shell of an ear, the relaxed muscle of his throat. He brushed his fingers over Sam’s collarbones, then sat up more to place both palms flat on his chest. He ran them down over the peaks of his nipples, the dip under his pecks, the subtle hills and valleys of the abdominal muscles Sam worked so hard to keep chiseled. 

Gabriel ran his hands back up and pressed into the thick curves of Sam’s muscled shoulders. He traced the veins running down his arms and feathered over the place where they interested and wove together in Sam’s wrists. He outlined each finger and followed the creases in each palm. 

Sam laid limply in the sun, letting it all happen. He remained passive, eyes closed, right up until the moment Gabriel placed a hot sucking kiss over one of his nipples, making him gasp quietly and thread his fingers into the grass. 

Gabriel smirked against his skin and continued a line of wet kisses down his chest. He let his hands roam to Sam’s cock before his mouth ever got there, and wasn’t surprised to find Sam already half hard. 

With a flick of his Grace he lubed his palm and Sam groaned and arched into the sudden slickness. He hardened fully in Gabriel’s hand and Gabriel lifted his head to watch Sam slowly lose control, which he did. His hands fisting the grass let go and roamed out, trying to find something more solid to grasp onto. Gabriel smirked and slowed his pace. 

“What do you want Sam?”

It took a moment for the words to sink in past the hormone storm in Sam’s mind, but he eventually locked eyes with Gabriel. 

“Ride me,” he gasped out. 

Gabriel didn’t need to be told twice. He let go and wiped his slick hand in the grass, then swung a leg over Sam while he used his Grace to open himself up. It was cheating, he was well aware, but he did not have the patience right now to do things the old fashioned way. 

He sank down without warning and Sam’s hands flew to his wrists as he moaned. 

Gabriel rocked up and down slowly at first, then picked up the pace. Eventually, Sam was a trembling mess under him. Gabriel continued, loving it when Sam was able to let go and do nothing but _feel._

Sam slid his hands up Gabriel’s arms in warning, and Gabriel nodded. The slight encouragement was all Sam needed to let go. He arched up and came so spectacularly that Gabriel’s own orgasm ripped through him without warning. 

Several long minutes later, Gabriel could breathe evenly again and he noticed the thick ropes of white painting Sam’s chest. Sam followed his gaze down and grinned. 

“No tissues here I assume?”

Gabriel huffed out a laugh and slid off of Sam. “Nope.” He snapped his fingers, cleaning them both off. Sam sat up and leaned over for a slow lingering kiss. 

“Hey! You were hungry!” Gabriel said suddenly, half pulling away. Sam made a noise of complaint at the kiss having been cut short. 

“This is better than food,” he reasoned, trying to dive in for another kiss. Gabriel dodged him and stood up, then tugged Sam up after him. 

“No way. You have to try the fruit here, it’s going to be the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth.”

Sam smirked. “You sure about that?”

Gabriel smacked his arm and tugged him back towards the grove of trees. He scanned the branches and reached up for a peach, whose stem broke with a satisfying snap. 

“Try this,” Gabriel said, handing the soft fruit to Sam. He bit into it and the juice ran down his hand. His face went slack and he took another giant bite. 

“Good huh?” Gabriel asked, picking one for himself. Sam could only nod back. 

Gabriel led him further into the trees and came upon a small cherry, whose gleaming red fruit was practically screaming _devour me._ Sam reached high into the tree and picked a handful. He fed Gabriel the first one and then ate one himself. They lingered for a long time by that tree and by the time they moved on, there was a substantial pile of pits near it’s little trunk. 

Sometime after they had raided the apples, mangoes, pears, and figs, both men collapsed into the grass, finally full. Sam leaned his head on Gabriel’s shoulder and breathed in the clean, warm air. 

“Thank you Gabriel.”

“For what Sammy? Convincing you to walk around naked?”

Sam looked down at himself as if suddenly realizing that he _was_ still naked. He blushed for half a second before deciding that he didn’t care. There was nobody here to be ashamed of. 

“For being you. For knowing exactly what I need. For staying.”

Gabriel made a dismissive noise. “Don’t get sappy on me now Sam.”

“No, I’m not. I mean it,” Sam said honestly, and Gabriel knew that he did. He wanted to tell Sam that he was grateful for the second chance. To tell Sam that he had given him more than he could ever repay, but he couldn’t find the words, so he leaned in for a kiss instead, hoping it could convey all the things he could say. 

Sam tasted sweet, and it was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for sticking with me through this fic, it's my first sabriel but hopefully not my last! Let me know what you thought of it and as always, if you have an idea, a prompt, something you're dying to read, comment it and I will do my best to deliver <3


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